Future Shock
by carcassi
Summary: Post-"Requiem" one-shot, in which Clark comes face-to-face with himself, literally. CHLARK, the way I'd like to see it. R/R, please?


**Future Shock**

**By Carcassi**

Clark Kent stared across the moonlit barn loft in openmouthed amazement. There, on his threadbare sofa, sat an older, and—if possible—mopier, version of himself, head in hands. Weirdest of all, instead of jeans and flannel, he wore a suit and tie.

Business Suit Clark didn't seem to notice him, so hesitantly, Clark cleared his throat. "Excuse me," he began politely as Business Suit looked up and blinked. "Can you tell me who you are and how I got here? "

If his sudden appearance startled the other Clark, he didn't show it. There were dark circles under his eyes as he stared back at Clark. "Guess the Legion's ring did it," he answered listlessly, as if that explained everything.

"Oh," he said, still trying to be polite. "So, um, would you mind sending me back? Because Lana's stuck in a tornado, and I really ought to go save her….."

He trailed off as Business Suit (B.S. for short, Clark thought, anxious to give him a name that wasn't Clark) clutched his head again and moaned.

"Did I say something?" he asked worriedly.

"LANA," said B.S. "I've lost her forever, and it's all my fault."

Clark's heart jumped into his throat. "Did she die?"

"No," came the dull response. He sighed, obviously lost in his own misery.

Clark could sympathize, remembering the many long hours he'd spent daydreaming about the girl next door. "Then it can't be all that bad," he said consolingly. "I guess she just wanted a normal life."

The figure on the sofa shifted uncomfortably. "Not exactly. She wanted to be super." He sighed again. "If only she hadn't taken Lex's super-suit, this would never have happened."

Clark's mouth hung open. "Are we talking about the same Lana Lang? You know, hometown girl, retired cheerleader? I can't believe she's going around stealing stuff like—did you say a SUPER-suit?"

"It wasn't stealing!" B.S. shot back heatedly. "She wanted us to be together! Anyway, Lex had it coming, after everything he put her through in their marriage."

"Lana married Lex?" Clark echoed weakly.

His counterpart glared at him. "She didn't want to, he made her! She had to blow up her own clone to get away from him."

Clark briefly wondered if he were going to be sick. Desperately, he tried to brush aside a fleeting vision of those delicate hands pushing the plunger on a detonator. "So she killed someone, too?" he whispered.

Ignoring the outraged protest from the sofa, he gathered his courage to ask the question that was uppermost in his mind. "Does she know my—uh, our—secret?"

His future self, apparently still too overcome to care much about how, or why, a hiccup in time had brought them together, nodded. "Chloe said it was the right thing to do."

Clark froze, every sense instantly going on red alert. "CHLOE knows?" In his mind's eye, he saw the headline "Alien Life on Earth!!" splashed across the front page of the _Daily Planet_, and shuddered. "What did she do when she found out the secret?"

That seemed to get B.S.' attention. He raised his head, and actually smiled a little. "She helped me keep it," he replied gently. "She's always been there for me. She even died for me once—long story," he added quickly, seeing Clark's perplexed look.

His shadowed eyes met Clark's, and softened. "She's the best friend I ever could have had."

"So," Clark asked slowly, "why aren't you with her right now, instead of moping here alone?"

From the way his counterpart flushed and ducked his head, he didn't seem to have a good answer to that, so Clark decided to ask something else. "Did Chloe ever get her dream job? Working for the _Daily Planet_?"

B.S.'s cheeks grew redder. "For a while. Until Lex fired her for helping me."

"WHAT?"

"It's OK. She says she's not interested in reporting anymore."

"B.S.!!!" Clark exclaimed, and felt his own cheeks grow red. Belatedly, he realized that maybe he should have picked a different nickname for his future self. "Um, sorry about that. But if Chloe says that, she's lying, and you know it."

Business Suit opened his mouth, then shut it, and shrugged. "Maybe, but what can I do? I've tried to talk to her."

Clark could just imagine how _that_ went. Nobody put up walls like Chloe did when she didn't want to be reached. "Try again. Something's wrong, it must be."

It felt weird to be giving advice to his own older self, but if there was anything about which he was absolutely, 100%, sure, it was that Chloe without journalism was like a fish without water. As shocking as the news about Lana had been, it was nothing compared to this. Chloe quitting reporting wasn't just unlikely; it was impossible.

"She's had some….tough times lately," his future self agreed, and looked away. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

Clark's eyes narrowed. "Because of me—er, us?"

When there was no reply, his frown deepened. "Let me get this straight. Chloe lost her dream because she helped us. Chloe DIED to help us, and Chloe's gone through something else horrible because she helped us. Is that about right?"

B.S. slumped his shoulders and nodded, dejectedly.

"But you're sitting here feeling sorry about LANA?"

His counterpart's head jerked up, his green eyes so wide in the moonlight that they seemed to glow. Clark's Mom had said that she could always tell when she'd caught him doing something wrong; now he knew what she meant. Guilt was written all over his future self's face.

"I think I've heard enough," Clark said quietly. "Send me back, please?"

Wordlessly, his counterpart held out his right hand. On his forefinger was a massive golden ring with a strange emblem. Clark reached out for it, struggling for the right thing to tell his older self. He wished he could say that the visit had been a pleasure.

"Thanks for showing me what an idiot I've been," he murmured, just before the barn disappeared into a bright light.

He reappeared by the bus station in Smallville in time to see Lana's truck being swept up by the enormous funnel cloud. Blurring forward, he tore the door off the truck, pulled out an unconscious Lana, and ran her to Smallville Medical. Then, as soon as the orderlies' backs were turned, he made a beeline for Smallville High and what was left of the Spring Formal.

It had only been a few minutes since he'd rushed out on her; if he was lucky, she would still be there.

She was. Yanking up the hem of her rumpled pink satin gown, Chloe Sullivan had already joined the rescue effort, manning the doors and urging people to get out as quickly and quietly as possible. One of her silver pumps had lost a heel, and she teetered on the other while the wind whipped her hair into a golden froth.

Clark thought that he'd never seen a more beautiful sight.

He stopped directly in front of her, not even bothering to pretend to run in at normal speed. She jumped, startled, and gazed at him with large, luminous hazel eyes. "You came back."

Nodding, he drew her into his arms, ignoring her half-hearted protests, and felt her melt against him as her intoxicating warmth spread through his whole body.

With an awestruck breath, Clark drank it in. How, he wondered, could he ever have missed this? It had been right in front of him all along.

He thought of his older self, hunched over in the dimly lit barn, and prayed silently that he would never have to see that haunted face in his mirror. He intended to do everything he could to prevent that, starting now.

"I have something to tell you," he murmured in Chloe's ear. "Something important."

Chloe smiled up at him while dozens of people shoved past them, yelling at them to hurry up. "Can it wait? I hate to say this, but we don't really have time for a heart-to-heart right now."

Clark grinned, dipped down, and kissed her. "Believe me," he said, leading her out by the hand, "we'll have all the time in the world."


End file.
